


Speaking Matters

by Gawd_Complex



Series: Trust [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Established Gwen/Arthur Pendragon, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 00:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11429130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gawd_Complex/pseuds/Gawd_Complex
Summary: Something is going on between Merlin and Mordred, and it's really getting on Arthur's nerves.





	Speaking Matters

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up fic to Counsellor, but they can be read apart from each other. They do belong together, but they can't be put together. If you've read both, you'll see what I mean. I hope it doesn't take away from enjoying the story. :)
> 
> Whenever I felt it was getting too ridiculous, I just had to keep in mind all of the things that happened during the show. Somehow, it felt less weird then. xD

"I am serious, Guinevere," Arthur muttered into his pillow.

He was facing away from Gwen but that didn't mean he couldn't feel their bed shaking. He turned around in the bed to face his wife with growing frustration.

"Would you _stop laughing_?"

"I'm sorry," Gwen said, trying to hide her smile behind her hand. "It's just that… I haven't seen anyone ever make that face, much less—"

"But he does!" Arthur interrupted her, "You can't tell me you haven't seen it. It happens on a daily basis – several times a day. It's not even necessary, it's—"

Arthur cut himself off when he realized that Gwen was nowhere near close to taking his problems seriously. If anything, she seemed to be having more difficulty keeping her composure. As she noticed his souring look, she quickly tried to diffuse the situation.

"I don't mean to embarrass you, I just—"

"Embarrass? You think I'm embarrassed? _Kings_ do not get embarrassed, Guinevere."

"Oh really?" His wife smirked after a small and incredulous pause. "I seem to remember this one time when I walked in on you when you were going to bathe. You turned this very particular shade of red – yes, like now—"

"Guinevere!" Arthur said, appalled, and he threw the nearest pillow at her head.

"I do believe this might be the same pillow you tried to cover yourself up with back then."

Arthur had had enough. Even his ears were glowing. He pushed away the blankets, not caring if his wife was exposed to the cold, and quickly jumped to his feet.

"I am being serious, Guinevere, and all you can do is lie there and _laugh_ at me."

He mentally kicked himself because even he himself caught the slightly hurt edge in his voice. He hastily grabbed his trousers and put them on. Gwen got up in the bed, an apologetic expression on her face. Half-heartedly, he threw his shirt over his head, hoping it would fall into place on the first try.

"Okay, Arthur," she said, but he could still hear the ghost of a smile in her voice. "I'm sorry. Come back to bed. I'll listen this time, no laughing."

" _No_ ," Arthur murmured into the shirt which had gotten stuck around his head, adding to his distress. "You're too late, now. All I wanted was some advice from my lovely wife, but then it turned out I married a heartless wench instead."

He didn't need to see his wife to know she was trying to hold back her laughter. His arms were now stuck pointed upwards above his head.

"You _see_ ," Arthur tried, "You _see_ what happens? They're driving me mad, mad as a fool, and you're just laughing at me! Look at me! My shirt is stuck! I can't move my arms!"

"Let me help you, okay?"

Her voice cracked on that last word and Arthur had had enough. Not caring that his arms were stuck above his head in his shirt, he turned around and headed for the chamber doors. He came to a stop when he realized he had no way of opening the door.

"Come on, Arthur. It's not as bad as you say, I'm sure. If you just let me—"

"No," Arthur's voice was as strangled as his arms were, "I am the king and I shall find someone who remembers to treat me like one to help me. Now if you'd just open the door for me."

There was a slight pause, and then…

"As you wish, sire."

*******

Arthur could only guess the hallway was deserted. No one seemed to be reacting to him walking into the occasional wall, cursing or accidentally breaking things. Maybe it was for the best.

Realizing how foolish his current situation was, he decided that he needed to get out of his shirt as soon as possible. Preferably before anyone saw him.

After what seemed like an eternity of cursing, grunting and trying to move his arms, he was suddenly interrupted by a polite cough. Arthur froze. He hadn't even heard anyone approaching.

"Sire."

Arthur almost felt relieved. If there was ever a person he could trust not to laugh in this kind of situation, it would be his on and off manservant.

"George," Arthur said. "Could you help me?"

As even George was struggling to free the king from the iron grip of his shirt, this time Arthur did hear the sound of approaching footsteps. He furiously urged George to hurry. When the grip of his shirt finally loosened a bit and he was able to push his arms all the way through the sleeves, he felt such immense relief he was almost ready to hug George. His shirt seemed to have stretched a bit in all of the chaos.

He regained his composure just in time. A few of his knights – armed, he noticed, almost as if ready for battle – rounded the corner led by Sir Leon.

And immediately froze upon the sight of their king.

"Sir Leon," Arthur gave his knights a nod, not having quite calmed down and feigning normalcy, "Why are you patrolling in this hallway?"

"We were just passing through, sire."

Despite his words, sir Leon and the other knights seemed to be a bit nervous. Arthur figured that if something truly important was happening or had happened, sir Leon wouldn't keep it from him. Arthur was just about to dismiss the knights, when a familiar voice spoke up.

"Actually, some servants warned us about a ghost in this hallway. They said it was walking around, knocking things over, and it even spoke. They said it sounded very angry. I don't mean to worry you, sire, but they said it spoke that kings should be treated with more respect and that it spoke ill of the queen. They thought King Uther might have returned from the dead again."

To his credit, Gwaine was surprisingly straight-faced as he talked.

"How many times do I have to—" Arthur stopped in the midst of what he had been about to say. Uther returning to haunt Camelot as a ghost had been one very stubborn rumour that had never quite left the castle. Even if it had been true, Uther's ghost hadn't been up to good and so Arthur had always denied those rumours.

Until now.

"Yes, it was my father indeed. But I vanquished his spirit yet again, may he rest in peace."

"May he rest in peace," The knights repeated.

If anyone noticed how red Arthur's face had become, they were smart enough not to mention it. It didn't stop Gwaine from looking at him with a knowing and infuriatingly amused look.

"You are dismissed, then. There are no wicked spirits, beasts or sorcerers in these hallways. I would've seen them. I'm sure you're needed elsewhere."

Some of the knights exchanged some uneasy looks with each other. Others stared at their king with a noticeable frown. The corners of Gwaine's mouth started twitching. Leon was the only one who didn't seem to be acting sketchy.

"Of course, sire."

Without further ado, he led the knights past the king.

When Gwaine passed him, the knight suddenly turned to him. By now, the smile in his eyes was unmistakable. He looked at Arthur's shirt.

"With all due respect, I think that may be the Queen's, sire."

*******

Arthur waited outside his chambers, wearing Gwen's nightgown, as George was to retrieve the king's clothes without alerting Gwen to his presence. As he studied the fabric, he at least understood why this particular piece of clothing had turned so viciously against him. Finally, George came out, and only after he had dressed Arthur semi-publicly in the hallway, did he tell that Gwen had actually already left the chambers.

It frustrated Arthur that his servant had honestly forgot to inform him about his wife's absence. At least Merlin would've done it on purpose.

For once, Arthur was the last one to arrive at the council meeting. Most of his knights and council members were quietly conversing with one another. When Arthur entered, they fell silent. His already fragile mood became further strained as he took his unofficial seat at the round table, and silently looked around.

First he shot Guinevere a look, then sought out Merlin and finally Gwaine. He made sure they all got his silent threat. It was to his relief when none of the aforementioned decided to make jokes at his expense.

Arthur started the meeting, and all went well. He even felt his mood starting to get better as the meeting went on. That just showed how horrible his mood had been at the beginning of this meeting, because usually it was the other way around.

It was Lancelot who shattered his illusion of safety.

"Sire, I have spoken to several servants who say they witnessed something strange this morning near your chambers."

If Lancelot noticed Arthur's facial expression souring, he did a good job at hiding it. Arthur was not giving any indication that he had heard poor Sir Lancelot, so Gwen decided to speak in his place.

"Tell us what you have heard."

She was _smiling_. 

"I can't be sure. We have heard different accounts of what happened."

"Please, Sir Lancelot," Gwaine said in a way that made Arthur suspicious. Suddenly, he realized who had put Lancelot up to this. Lancelot was most likely oblivious. "Be thorough."

"Some said it was a ghost."

"Just a ghost?" Gwaine pressed.

Arthur was too horrified to be able to interrupt immediately.

Lancelot hesitated. "Not just some ghost, to be honest. King Uther."

There was the sound of an unmistakable laugh on his left. He slowly turned his head left, and his vengeful gaze landed on his wife who was trying to mask her laughter by coughing.

"That's not possible," Merlin's voice cut in.

He wasn't laughing, which meant he clearly hadn't spoken to Gwaine before this meeting.

"I didn't think so," Lancelot said, "Other servants have mentioned it was just a maniac running around with a sheet over his head, others said it was a man wearing women's night gown. Whatever the case, I suggest increasing the palace's security. We should not allow such troublemakers that close to the king and queen again."

"It's been taken care of," Arthur said, calmly. They needed to change the subject before he was going to do something he would regret later.

When Gwaine opened his mouth, he repeated his words curtly.

"Taken care of."

Merlin frowned but Arthur shot him a look.

" _Done._ "

That just seemed to make Merlin's brain work harder. Arthur could only watch in horror as he saw Merlin look around the table curiously – noticing Gwen's stifled laughter, Gwaine's poorly hidden smile and Leon biting his lips nervously while avoiding to look at Arthur – and knew he had to make sure that the truth of what had happened that morning _never_ reached his former manservant's ears.

"Is there anyone who has something of actual _importance_ to report?" Arthur asked, perhaps a little louder than was needed, but it seemed to be enough to distract everyone.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he noticed the way Lancelot's shoulders slumped.

As Sir Percival told of some strange tracks found during a patrol, Arthur glanced around the table. His eyes landed on Merlin, and _it_ happened again. The same thing that had made him moan and complain to Gwen in the morning, that which Gwen had just laughed off as if it was something funny, while it was driving Arthur insane. It immediately rekindled all of his frustration.

He managed to let Sir Percival finish his talk, but he felt the frustration building up in his stomach. It was all just ready to burst out – weeks and weeks of frustration. As soon as Sir Percival was finished, he desperately tried to recall what had been said. Everyone present was looking at him expectantly.

"Send a patrol," Arthur said, distractedly. His eyes landed on one of the half a dozen people who were making his life a living hell at the moment, relieved to be able to get rid of at least one of them.

"Sir Mordred, you pick some knights to go with you."

Mordred seemed pleasantly surprised. "Thank you, sire."

Whatever Percival had said, everyone seemed to think it was a great idea to send Mordred as the leader of the patrol. Which probably meant there were signs of magic being involved, possibly druids.

And then _it happened again_.

Mordred glanced at Merlin with a slight smile, which was returned in equal. It were these little things that were slowly driving him crazy. He felt Gwen's hand on his, and it seemed that she had finally noticed it too. She gave him a reassuring smile, and Arthur felt his frustration lessen somewhat.

"Is there anything else?" Arthur asked, as he looked around the table. Most of the people who were present shook their heads. As Arthur was about to call the meeting to a close, Merlin spoke up.

"Actually, I—"

Arthur felt his anger rise up again.

"Anyone _other_ than Merlin?" Arthur asked pointedly. His voice may have sounded a bit more venomous than he had intended, because even Gwaine frowned. "Then we're done."

He was actually surprised he got to the point of ending the meeting without Merlin protesting. Even more so, when people started leaving the meeting. He started searching for Merlin, feeling slightly guilty for his words just now. That is, until he found Merlin and saw him doing the exact thing that had Arthur caused his foul mood in the first place.

Only Gwen and Gaius made no move to leave the chamber.

"What do you want, Gaius?" Arthur said, once again more aggressively than he had intended.

"Is something bothering you, sire?"

"No," Arthur denied instantly, "Why would you think such a thing?"

Gaius gave the person next to Arthur a questioning glance.

"Arthur, it would help if you stopped glowering at Gaius," Gwen said.

Arthur tried. He honestly tried, but he couldn't. Much like his arms had been stuck in Gwen's nightgown that morning, now a glower was stuck on his face.

"I am not glowering," Arthur denied. Gwen opened her mouth and Arthur interrupted her. "Kings do not glower."

He could practically hear Guinevere's eyes rolling.

"You seem tense, sire," Gaius said, "Have you been sleeping well?"

"Never better."

Gaius looked to Guinevere for help.

"Has it do with Uther's ghost?"

"NO!" Arthur shouted before he could stop himself. That was when he realized he should definitely calm down. He was making a fool out of himself. Gwen put her hand on his arm. Arthur felt himself calm down just a little.

"There is clearly something bothering you, sire."

Arthur looked up and met Gaius's eyes. He sighed. "It is nothing of great importance, Gaius. Thank you for your concern."

He heard Guinevere's mouth move in the silent chamber, and quickly looked at his wife. He was pretty sure his wife had just mouthed something at Gaius. He glanced back at Gaius, and whatever Gwen had been saying, the message had been received. Gaius stopped mid-nod.

"That's it!" Arthur shook Gwen's hand off, jumped to his feet and had reached the door in a matter of seconds. "I am done with this – this _thing_ – what is wrong with _talking_? _Words_ , out loud, spoken _words_? Have you absolutely no idea how rude you two are being?"

Gaius and Gwen could only stare in stunned silence at the empty doorway. Then they simultaneously looked at each other as it all clicked.

*******

It was clear that Gwaine felt uncomfortable.

He kept glancing to his left and each time Arthur caught a glimpse of his face, his frown seemed to have grown deeper. Arthur hadn't joined dinner in the castle in the evening, and had decided to eat his dinner in the quiet comfort of his room. Just him and George. Then, after dinner, he decided that kings do not mope. He hadn't really looked for Gwaine. The knight just happened to be the first knight he had run into. Arthur had insisted that Gwaine needed a drink, ignored the knight's protests and dragged him to the tavern. Because kings help their knights in times of need.

It wasn't that late, but Arthur was still surprised that Mordred was also at the tavern, together with the knights he had personally chosen to go with him on his mission the next morning.

As Arthur was quietly drinking, he couldn't help but glower in the general direction of Mordred. Gwaine was the only one sitting with Arthur. Most of the tavern's regulars had had too much to recognize their king and the knights just quickly decided not to disturb him, as soon as they met his glower.

Gwaine seemed to grow more and more concerned.

"Sire, I really have to leave now. Tomorrow—"

"Nonsense," Arthur said, trying to smile at Gwaine. It's not as if he had forgotten about Gwaine's role during his meeting earlier that day. He needed to teach his knight a lesson about provoking the king. "We came here so you wouldn't mope around all evening in your room, moaning about how lonely you are."

He heard some of the other knights snicker.

"Sire, I think you should go too," Gwaine said, "The queen must be worried—"

"Nonsense," Arthur interrupted, "She's probably having some deep, secret conversations with Gaius as we speak. Things my ears are not allowed to hear."

It seemed even Mordred had noticed someone staring daggers at his head. From time to time, he glanced at the king. Arthur took joy in the fact that he looked a bit more uncomfortable each time their eyes met.

"Sire?" Gwaine spoke.

Arthur hadn't noticed Gwaine's unwavering stare. 

"Yes?"

"You're not planning on killing Mordred, are you?"

"Why would you even think that?" Arthur said, appalled.

"No reason," Gwaine said, looking away with a frown. This time Arthur's gaze lingered on Gwaine, but just as he was about to look away, he saw it. Gwaine was silently gesturing towards the other knights, asking them for help.

Arthur had had enough.

*******

Without the help of his knights, Arthur found his way to his chambers. He had been very adamant about not needing their help after leaving the tavern. He had decided to pretend he didn't hear – or see – the three or four knights who were following him throughout Camelot up until his chambers to make sure he reached them alive.

After he closed his doors, he immediately spotted his empty bed. Feeling a pang of regret for the way he'd behaved that day, he let out a forlorn sigh. For some reason, George hadn't lit up his room and so he made his way to his chair through the darkness.

Sitting down, he thought something might be wrong with his chair. It seemed to be higher than usual and not as soft.

"You reek, sire," an all too familiar voice said from directly behind him.

"Get off my chair, Merlin."

"Gladly," Merlin said immediately. "If you mind…?"

Arthur held on to the table for support as he moved to make way for Merlin, and his former manservant was quick to move away from said chair.

"Now get out of my chambers."

"Gwen asked me to talk to you."

"Tomorrow," Arthur snapped, without having any real intention to.

"Come on, Arthur," Merlin said, as he sat down on another chair, "You can tell me what's going on. You haven't been yourself all week. And it isn't like you at all to go to the tavern."

"I am king, I can do what I want."

When the candles in his chambers inexplicably lit up, he made no mention of it. It did make him question something else. "Why were you in my chair?"

"I was here pretty early," Merlin answered, "I must have fallen asleep."

"Next time, take Guinevere's chair," Arthur mumbled as he felt increasingly sleepy.

That was, until Merlin spoke up again.

"Arthur!" He sounded appalled.

Arthur almost jumped in his chair, and blearily looked at Merlin.

"Did you really just _punch_ Gwaine in his face?"

"As I told the other knights," Arthur said, amazed by his own eloquence, "I did no such thing! And I am utterly disgusted than anyone would think such a thing of me. I merely raised my hand to order more drinks, and I accidentally hit Gwaine. In the face. Also, I was in a hurry. I raised my arm fast. But I am king, and I cannot believe anyone—"

He was distracted as he noticed Merlin had started laughing. Sure, he tried to muffle the sounds and hide his grin, but Arthur wasn't fooled. He looked at Merlin, suddenly tired again.

"Where did you hear such preposterous news, anyway?" But he knew the answer before he had even asked the question.

"News travels fast, Arthur," Merlin said with a grin.

"Very fast indeed," Arthur murmured incapable of not sounding bitter, "if you can simply talk with one another through _magic_."

Merlin started looking concerned. "Why did you just pronounce the word magic as your father used to do? Don't tell me he actually was haunting your chambers this morning."

"I am starting to believe I may have made the gravest mistake by allowing magic into Camelot again." Merlin started to look slightly more concerned, which made Arthur feel better. But then the _thing_ happened again. Merlin just got a very particular, very focused look on his face whenever he was mentally speaking with Mordred. Focused expression, yet glazed eyes. 

His hand moved before his brain had even registered what he was about to do. 

During his days as Arthur's manservant, Merlin would've easily dodge the cup thrown at his head.

"What was that for, Arthur?" Merlin cried out. 

"You are being incredibly _rude_ , Merlin."

"You are the one who just threw a cup at my head!"

"I am talking to you, and then you just go and talk to someone else. Am I not interesting enough, Merlin? Am I boring you? Would you rather converse with other sorcerers?"

Merlin went quiet. He even stopped rubbing his head.

"That's what all this is about?"

"Of course!" Arthur hissed.

"No one ever notices when I do that…"

"Well, I do." Arthur said, narrowing his eyes. "You do it all the time. During meetings, while working, when you're speaking with other people. When you're speaking with _me_. It is downright rude, Merlin. And I cannot believe no one else would notice. You make this incredibly weird face."

Arthur slightly exaggerated the face Merlin would make when he used his magic to communicate.

"Arthur," Merlin deadpanned, "No one looks like that. Ever. If I did, someone would bring me to Gaius immediately."

"No, that's how you look," Arthur insisted.

"So that's what's been bothering you?" Merlin said, "Lancelot thought you had it out for him, you know."

"Why would he think that?" Arthur asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Leon and Percival thought that it was Gwaine who caused your horrendous mood today, because he wouldn't shut up about the _ghost_ who fell down the stairs."

"You're really enjoying that story, aren't you?"

Merlin didn't respond, but his eyes said it all.

"Elyan actually thought it was Uther's ghost who had possessed you."

"What's _wrong_ with him?"

"Gaius and Gwen thought you missed me," Merlin said.

Arthur remained quiet for a split second, but only because that idea was so outrageous he wasn't able to conjure a comeback immediately. Merlin, for some reason, waited a split second longer.

"Do you have nothing better to do than gossip about me all day, Merlin?"

"Gwaine thought you were jealous of Mordred." Merlin added, ignoring Arthur's comment.

"I should've hit him harder," Arthur mumbled. Only when he heard Merlin laugh, did he realize he had said it out loud. "Well, they're all wrong. Each and every one of them, especially Elyan. And a king would never miss the most useless manservant he ever had. Have you seen how clean my chambers are, Merlin? Luckily you have proven to be a better court sorcerer than a manservant. _Jealousy_? As if I have time for such things."

Arthur pointedly refused to look at Merlin, because he just knew Merlin was smiling.

"Mordred says you were burning holes in his head with your eyes."

"Then something went wrong, because I was trying to speak with him." For clarification, Arthur added, "With my mind."

"It bothers you that much?"

"Do you like it when someone doesn't listen to anything you say?"

"Some of us get used to it." Merlin said.

That made Arthur pause for a bit.

"Everyone listens to you now."

"They do," When he noticed the familiar expression coming over Merlin's face, he was grasping for the nearest cup. Merlin was lucky enough to end his mental conversation with Mordred before Arthur had managed to grab the slippery cup. He hastily took it from Arthur's reach, and looked at him accusingly.

"Our last conversation was cut short because someone threw a cup at my head," Merlin said, "I was just assuring him you hadn't murdered me."

"I am king, I can murder whoever I want."

Arthur frowned when he realized what he had just said. Merlin looked slightly disturbed.

"Right. You should really go to bed."

"I think I liked it more when you and Mordred couldn't stand each other," Arthur murmured. "What was that like, Merlin? I take it you exchanged death threats without anyone ever finding out? Just magically threatening to kill each other in the depths of night?"

"What?" Merlin said, looking at him weirdly. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know," Arthur managed to sound more offended than Merlin, "Maybe because I have no clue what you two are talking about all day. No one remembers even seeing the two of you speak anymore. No one has a clue what the two of you could be talking about. You could be gossiping the entire day, talking about the maid's new dresses and shoes, or about the jewellery I buy for Guinevere. You could be conspiring against me for all I know, just plotting to kill me in my sleep. _I don't know_." 

"I can't believe Mordred and I haven't come up with that ourselves. All this time we've just been exchanging notes in secrecy, when we could've just organised your assassination with our minds."

"You're not funny, Merlin," Arthur said.

"I had no idea it was affecting you that much," Merlin said. Arthur didn't need to look at his face to know that the sorcerer was making a sappy face at him. "You could've just told me, you know. There was no need to make a scene wearing Guinevere's nightgown this morning. You scared a lot people. Some of the servants are actually performing a cleansing ritual as we speak."

"It was my father's ghost, this morning," Arthur insisted, "but he was taken care of quickly. That aside, how do you know what the servants are doing? And who told you that ridiculous story about Guinevere's nightgown?"

"George told me about that," Merlin answered, ignoring the question about the servants. "And seeing as it's George, I know it's true. Especially the part about him helping you out of Gwen's dress. You still need someone to dress you every morning?"

"It was a nightgown, not a dress," Arthur hissed. Then he realized what he had just said. With a sigh, he leant backwards on his chair. "And you know what really bothered me? George just helped me out of Gwen's nightgown like he did it on a daily basis. Merlin, I swear, that man does not even recognize a humorous situation after it hit him in the face."

"Are you saying that you _miss_ me?"

As easily as ever, he almost started his sentence with the same generalities about what kings do and don't do. But then he simply gave up and let out a deep sigh.

"I am saying, _Merlin_ , that in that instant, just that split of a second, it may have been nice to have you there. Somehow, being laughed at in such a situation is less embarrassing than someone pretending it's normal. You probably would've laughed at me."

"Perhaps."

When he looked up at Merlin's face, he knew there was something not quite right. He narrowed his eyes.

"There's no telling what I might have done," Merlin said, "Because I wasn't there. Perhaps, if I had been there, I might not have made my presence known and prefer to watch from the shadows. Just to make sure that the king, who insists that he absolutely dresses himself nowadays and doesn't leave it up to poor Guinevere, doesn't plunge to his death while fighting off a rogue nightgown. And, maybe, when I was sure you were safe, I may have asked servants to send the knights to battle some magical creature that had gotten into the castle somehow. But I wasn't there, so I guess we'll never know."

" _Merlin_!"

*******

**Six weeks later**

A few weeks after Mordred had returned from his mission, there was a council meeting that was especially boring and uninteresting.

_This is taking forever._ Mordred's bored voice resounded in his head.

Merlin tried to ignore Mordred's prodding, but it was a very weak and half-hearted try on his part. It was almost as if everyone was deliberately trying to make this meeting as boring and as long as possible.

_I can't believe Leon is actually reading that entire list. Have you seen the length of that scroll? He's not even halfway, and he's been going at it for half an hour, at the_ very _least_. 

Merlin quickly glanced at Mordred, who was at the other side of the round table. Merlin felt envious that he himself wasn't as convincing at feigning interest. Mordred looked as if every word coming out Leon's mouth was a new treat to his ears. Merlin's mouth curled upwards, though he knew he should keep his face straight. Arthur had been simply eager to catch him in the act of telepathy.

_No one's going to believe you if you look_ that _interested_. 

_No one believes_ anyone _is interested._

Merlin glanced around quickly and as inconspicuous as possible, but he noticed no one was paying them any attention. Most important of all, Arthur seemed completely enthralled by Sir Leon. It was also possible that he had learned how to sleep with his eyes open, but that could pose as a problem for the kingdom at a later date.

_Even Leon himself seems bored._ Mordred added as an afterthought. _Does Arthur still think we spend all these talks conspiring to kill him?_

_That's not all he thinks._ Merlin said. _He's also very adamant on us gossiping, dragging his name through the mud, eying Guinevere and her jewellery._

Mordred's mouth twitched a little. The first sign of life he had shown in the last ten minutes. _Does nothing interesting ever happen during meetings?_

_Sometimes it does_ , Merlin said, unable to supress a smirk, _There was this one time Arthur was discussing something with the council, and his pants just dropped. You should've have seen the faces of his council._

_That actually happened?_ Mordred said incredulously, _The version I heard was actually a bit different. I heard that you, as Arthur's manservant, really insisted on helping Arthur. Something about you even wrestling Arthur to the floor in front of everyone?_

_Yeah. Well… I_ really _needed a key he kept on his belt. It's a long story._

Merlin was just as surprised by the laughter coming from Mordred as the rest of them. Everyone's gaze turned towards him as one. Even Leon paused to look at Mordred, who tried to compose himself quickly.

"My apologies," Mordred said, when both Arthur and Leon seemed to be expecting some kind of explanation from him, "I just remembered something funny that happened yesterday."

Merlin didn't miss the fact that some curiously peered at him too. Gaius just looked slightly disapproving, Gwaine almost looked envious but it was Arthur who worried him. The king was looking at him through narrowed eyes, silently warning him.

Both Merlin and Mordred managed to stay silent after that, but only until it seemed that everyone had their attention focused on Leon again.

_I can't believe such a thing happened._ Mordred said. _Do you have more stories like those?_

_Only if you promise not to laugh._ Merlin replied. _Arthur looked ready to kill us. Well, me, mostly. And you are the one who starts most of our conversations._

_Yeah, well. I am young and rash. You are just old. You have no excuses._

Merlin frowned. _Have I told you about Dragoon the Great yet?_

Several amusing anecdotes later, Merlin felt alarmed when he noticed that everyone had started to raise their hand in the air.

_Are we voting? Since when do we vote?_

_Since today, I guess. What are we voting for? Did you hear?_

_I don't know. But everyone is holding their hands up. Also, staring at us._

Mordred quickly raised his hand. Merlin was about to raise his hand, when he saw that Gaius was the only one in the room to vote against whatever idea everyone was voting for. And well, he respected Gaius's opinion. Also, his mentor was positively glowering at him.

Merlin's hesitation didn't go unnoticed.

"Well, Merlin. Are you voting for this law or against it? We _especially_ wouldn't want to miss your opinion on this very specific matter."

"It is a very delicate matter," Merlin stalled, and he tried to look Gaius for advice. His guardian wasn't of much help, because the moment Merlin started talking, he started rubbing his head as if he was willing a bad headache to go away. No one else proved to be willing to provide any help either. Gwaine, very lightly, shook his head but Merlin wasn't sure if he was disapproving or trying to help. It was a bit of a mystery, as he was voting in favour for the new law himself. Not even Lancelot was trying to help him.

And Arthur looked just positively gleeful.

"I guess I… will go with the popular opinion, then." Merlin said, as he raised his hand.

When he heard Gaius sigh, he knew he should've followed Gaius's lead instead. He almost dreaded to find out what Arthur's growing smile meant.

"I can't say I am surprised by the outcome of the votes," Arthur said as he tried to straighten his face, "However, I am quite surprised at your eagerness to vote for this law, Sir Mordred. And you, Merlin, well, you are predictable. Well then, seize them."

Merlin wasn't sure why all the knights stood up as if they shared a collective mind. Percival, who'd been seated next to him, stood up and simply grabbed his shoulder whilst Gwaine grabbed the other.

_Now I am very curious what we voted for precisely._ Mordred's voice came, as he was apprehended by Lancelot and Leon.

"Okay, Arthur," Merlin said, "We get it. You can let us go now."

"You two have been found guilty of Camelot's newest crime, voted to be so by yourselves," Arthur said, positively glowing with mirth. "Namely, the use of telepathy during a council meeting. You yourselves have voted to criminalize this. It's actually quite a step back on the laws on magic from where we were an hour ago. Don't worry, the punishment is quite mild for first time offenders: just an hour in the dungeons."

Suddenly Merlin understood why this meeting had seemed to drag on and on. Why its topics had been the least interesting in the history of council meetings.

"You tricked us," Merlin said incredulously. He could never help but sound a bit impressed when Arthur outsmarted him, if only because it was so unexpected.

"I wasn't actually the one who voted for the passing of this law," Arthur said, forgetting temporarily that he had been just doing that. "I hope you will spend your time in your separate cells wisely. I'd like the two of you to think about how rude it is to use your telepathy in company."

Merlin knew when Arthur couldn't be reasoned with, and he was pretty sure this was just payback for the rumour about Uther's second haunting. If anything, the rumours had only grown bigger and more absurd with time. It didn't seem like anyone would forget about it anytime soon.

_See, Mordred?_ Merlin said. _Every once in a while, something interesting does happen at the council meetings._

Mordred snorted.


End file.
